


Rebound

by Scrunchles



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Divorced Mako, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Extremely Dubious Consent, JUST, Like if i wasn't writing it I would be concerned, M/M, Mako is a Goddamned Sap, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Rebound Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: Fresh from his divorce, Mako meets a young man who seems all too willing to make him forget his misery.Looking to score, Jamie ends up with a little more than he bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Thyme for betaing and Skadi and Cancel for all their support :)

His finger feels naked without the gold band.  It looks bigger without it.  Like it doesn’t fit him.

Mako flexes his fingers then sighs and crosses his hand under his elbow.  If he can’t see it, it won’t bother him.

He’d thought about getting it tattooed a few times.  When he had to take it off to work on his bike, or the time he lost it on a road trip.  Might as well make it permanent, right?  Marriage was supposed to last forever.

He doesn’t notice the young man cozying up to him until he clears his throat and jostles Mako’s stool by hooking his foot around the leg and dragging his own closer.

“Noticed you slippin’ a ring off,” he says,  all bright eyes and wide smile.  He might have been cute if he wasn’t so unbearably long and thin.  His head looks like taffy that has been pulled from the bottom, giving him the strangest triangular looking face Mako has ever seen.  His body matches.  He’s not wearing much more than a tank top, so the sharp cut from his shoulders- broad compared to the rest of him- to his thin waist is extremely apparent and he seems to just keep tapering from there.

“I’m divorced,” Mako replies flatly and swirls his last sip around in his glass.  He wants him to give up and go away.  Let him sulk.  He drinks the last bit of liquor and motions for the bartender.

The young man doesn’t go away.  If anything, even more energy floods the young man’s voice and one of his knees starts jumping.  It brushes Mako’s ass where it hangs over the edge of the stool.  “Feeling up for a good time with a bloke or are you a sheilas-only type?” the young man asks, wiggling forward on his stool, his legs spread wide and only exacerbating how lanky he appears showing off how tightly his jeans cling to his thighs.  Mako can probably wrap his entire hand around one and nearly touch his fingers and thumb together.

“Trying not to feel anything,” Mako replies ominously as amber liquid fills his glass again.

“I can help with that,” the man insists.  He’s still shifting on the stool and it seems like he’s unable to stay still longer than half a second at a time. “You ever had a gobbie so good you blacked out?”

Mako pauses with his drink halfway to his lips.  That has to be hyperbole.  “You working?” he asks.  The young man is trying to sell himself so hard, he has to be a hooker.

“Nah!” He doesn’t sound insulted.  His voice ticks up almost as high as it had when Mako told him he was divorced.  He seems delighted by the question.  “Not that I couldn’t or wouldn’t.  Just don’t need to.  I mean if you _want_ to pay me after, you _can_.  But that’s not what I’m here for.”

Mako knocks his drink back and the idea seems more appealing.  Hooking up with a stranger propositioning him in a bar.  No names, no attachments, none of what he was bad at— just pure, raw, carnal outlet.

“Let’s go.”

——-

The bricks are rough and they catch at Mako’s shirt as he’s pressed back against them.  He doesn’t necessarily want to do this in the alley way, but as soon as the door closes, the young man is kissing him, tall enough that Mako doesn’t have to stoop to bite at his bottom lip.  The man groans, high and delighted in the back of his throat when Mako does it again and again.  He slides his hands up the back of the other man’s shirt and feels rippling muscle unhidden by fat crawling up his back and ribs.

“Shit, you’re hot,” Mako huffs when his mouth is released in favor of his jaw.

“So’re you,” the smaller man says, pressing against Mako harder.  He scrapes his lips along Mako’s stubble and groans.  “And you smell good,” he mumbles.  “I can’t wait to get your cock in my mouth.”

Mako’s head is already spinning, and it only gets worse when all of his blood rushes to his cock.  “Yeah?” he asks.  It’s more than a little late.  The blonde man is already dropping to his knees, running his hands over Mako’s gut and dragging his shirt up to kiss his belly before he finally settles on his heels and starts fiddling with Mako’s pants.  

Mako leans heavily back against the wall and tilts his head to the side, watching the entry of the alleyway with his heart racing.  Occasionally someone passes by.  His attention is dragged back to the young man between his legs when he hears a soft whistle somewhere below his gut.

“Little bigger than what you’re used to?” Mako asks, bitterness creeping in.  He gave more than he received in his marriage.  He was always too big or it took too long.

He’s ripped out of the negativity by nails raking down his thighs and an eager tongue lapping at his piercings.  “Don’t flatter yourself, mate,” the young man says between wet passes of his warm tongue.

Mako laughs and his hand finds the wild blonde hair beneath his gut.  That’s all the willowy asshole has been doing since he sidled up to Mako.  Flattering himself, flattering Mako.  When he takes Mako’s head into his mouth, he groans and his nails scrape at Mako’s thighs again.

Mako grips his hair for a second and closes his eyes tight.  Jesus fucking Christ he’s warm and wet and wonderful.

The young man carefully takes more of Mako in, minding his teeth and sliding his tongue back and forth against the underside of the massive cock as he goes.  Mako groans and feels his knees quiver.  So much of his cock is going into the man’s mouth.  More than should be possible.  He finally feels the other man reach his apparent limit and his hands leave Mako’s thighs to wrap around the rest of his cock.

Mako turns his head away from the alleyway entrance and tilts his head back against the wall as the young man’s throat moves against his head.  “Fuck…” he groans.

Hands rub him and thumbs give pressure as the young man’s mouth slides around him, beginning to bob around Mako.  He sucks in time with his breaths, and the sounds he makes between each breath drive Mako up the wall.  He could likely get off on listening to the wet groaning going on beneath his belly on its own.

He starts panting hard sooner than he expects to.  His hand grips the young man’s hair just as something to hold onto as his hips begin to move with the warm, wet mouth around him.  The young man doesn’t fight him, he just keeps sucking and bobbing and making ridiculous sounds like Mako’s cock is the only thing in the world worth putting in his mouth.  He wishes he could watch.  He wishes he could look down and lock eyes with the young man, wishes he could see him drooling and how tight his thin lips are stretched around his cock.

The young man sucks harder and groans.

Mako feels his entire body fade away as he comes down the young man’s throat. He doesn’t black out, but he sees stars burst behind his eyelids and he’s left wheezing and trembling.  His spit-slicked cock is suddenly exposed to the cool night air and the young man is up, pressing against him, kissing Mako with his own spunk tinging his spit, but Mako honestly couldn’t care less as long, thin fingers press into his hair and a hard cock starts grinding against his belly.  They’re too disproportionate to be able to frot properly while kissing, but the young man doesn’t seem to have any trouble shoving Mako’s t-shirt up so that he can rut against the warm, taut skin of his belly.

Mako holds him, one hand on his waist and the other cupping his cheek with a few fingers still twined in the young man’s hair.  Mako sucks at the tongue dipping into his mouth and scrapes his teeth against the young man’s bottom lip between sucking, tonguing kisses.

It’s depraved and needy.  It’s _wonderful_ and Mako groans as he feels his stomach slick with the precome of a man whose name he doesn’t know, whose tongue cheekily flicks at the top of his mouth.  

Mako rolls to the side and braces the younger man’s back against the wall.  He moans into Mako’s mouth and his hips jerk between Mako’s stomach and the wall.

Mako places his hands on the wall and keeps kissing the young man.  He begins to grind his stomach against the hips trapped between him and the wall. The other man’s mouth leaves his in favor of panting like he’s in the middle of a marathon.  Mako moves faster and the hands that were in his hair before drop to his shoulders, blunt nails scraping at his skin, desperate and clawing.

“Fuck,” the young man chokes out, and his nails scratch Mako’s neck, leaving raw rakes from the back of his neck to his throat. “Fuck, fuck, bloody— _fuck!_ ” He moans as he finally comes and Mako feels it squish between them.  He’s pretty sure it’s all over his shirt.  Mako leans in and kisses the sweat-slick neck bared to him as the man leans his head back, still wiggling slick and hot against Mako as he gasps and curses his way through the last jerking motions of his orgasm.

“Holy shit,” Mako says, once the young man hips stop moving and his arms wrap tiredly around Mako.

“Hooly dooley.”

Mako chuckles and leans in for a tender kiss against his collar bone.  “Best sex I’ve had in years,” he admits.

Lips catch his own and Mako sighs as a giddy, lingering kiss is pressed to his lips.

“Get the _fuck_ out of here,” a voice says behind Mako.  When he turns to look, it’s the barkeeper.

Mako knows he should be embarrassed to be caught with his pants down and a young man nearly half his age pinned between himself and a brick wall, but he can’t bring himself to give a damn.  He feels the soft glow of pride as he straightens up and clears his throat to tell the bartender to piss off.  Before he can, the young man giggles and wiggles out from between Mako and the wall.

“Let’s go, mate.   Can’t start the _hardcore stuff_ until we get to your place,” he says, sneering at the bartender as he pulls his pants back up.

Mako follows his lead and does up his pants and his belt before wrapping his arm around the young man’s torso and pressing an over-enthusiastic kiss to the side of his neck.  “Let’s go,” he agrees before pulling away and walking toward the end of the alley.

Fingers grab his shirt and a hip bumps his own as they walk out of the alley together, narrowly fitting side by side.

——-

The motel room is sparse and shitty in a desperately lived-in kind of way.  Jamie had been a expecting a modest bungalow at the very least from how the other man was dressed.  He didn’t get taken to too many hotels or motels of his hookups were local.

“Guess he got the house, then?” Jamie jokes, taking in the cramped and haphazard space.

“She did, yeah,” the larger man says, trying to pick up some of the fast food bags and kicking piles of underwear under the bed.

Jamie chuckles and plops on the couch.  He watches for a few minutes before bouncing back up and pressing himself against the other man’s side.  “Mine’s worse,” he assures him, lips teasing his thick neck with the barest hint of teeth.

The man drops the wad of fast food bags from his massive hand and drags Jamie closer with a hand grabbing his ass.  Jamie giggles as the man presses his lips to Jamie’s, hard and demanding.

“Fuck, you’re a dream,” the man groans gruffly and lifts Jamie with the hand on his ass so that they can move toward the bed.  Jamie lets out a high laugh and clings to the larger man, pressing kisses to his jaw and neck.

He drops Jamie on the bed and shoves his shirt up to kiss and lick his chest before he starts moving lower.  Jamie’s already nearly hard again and he bucks his hips up against the firm bulk above him as slick, wet lips and tongue tease his skin.

Jamie pants and groans, feeling hot all over.  He struggles his shirt off and flings it off the side of the bed.  The tongue slides beneath the waistband of Jamie’s pants, teeth scrape against his stomach.  He groans and fists his hands in the soft blanket beneath him.  He’s thankful the man undoing his pants didn’t want to put up with the scratchy motel comforter, especially when he feels the softness of the blanket on his ass.

“Crickey, I’m gonna steal this blanket, mate,” Jamie says, petting it as lips lavish his thighs.  It’s so calming and soothing.  The desperation has died and been replaced with something nearly sweet.  It’s almost as warm as the mouth that wraps around his cock.  His knuckles whiten as he grips the blanket again.  “Fuck…!” He groans as he’s swallowed up by wet, sloppy heat and suction.  Short, nasal breaths puff against his pubic hair, and he whines as his cock is tongued and sucked.

He thinks he’s about to come, but then a slick finger probes at his ass and he bites his lip hard.  Jamie tries to focus on something to take the edge off.  He wants this to last forever.  The mouth around him is so silky, so warm and skilled.

“Anyone stupid enough to divorce you deserves to never come again,” Jamie gasps when the finger crooks just right.  The older man swallows around him and Jamie bucks a little harder than he intends.  “Fuck… fuck…” he pants, shaking his head.  He has to come, he can’t hold back—

The man swallows him down with a groan and the vibrations are what does Jamie in.  As he comes, the finger inside him massages his prostate and he’s left in a heady, cottony state, bucking his hips with each push of the finger and whining softly as his soft, sensitive cock is suckled until it slips past thick, wicked lips.

“You’re a fucking dream,” Jamie says, covering his face with his hand and trying to catch his breath.

“What ‘hardcore stuff’ did you have in mind?” the man asks, resting his cheek against Jamie’s knee and continuing to massage him slowly with his finger.

Jamie shakes his head and makes a pathetic sound.  “Just trying to… to fuck—fuck…” he trails off, losing his thought as warm, wet lips start moving against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

A rough, warm chuckle vibrates against him.  Jamie wiggles helplessly and he knows he’s talking, he can hear his own voice, but all he can focus on is the finger inside him, pressing and massaging until he’s not sure what plane of existence he’s on any more.

Eventually, mercy is granted, the finger stops tormenting him, and Jamie comes back to the soft, soft blanket with a sharp ringing in his ears.  “Holy shit,” he says.

The man is pressed against him, his arm wrapped around Jamie and his lips pressing against his shoulder.  “Figured I should pay you back for the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

Jamie laughs and rolls to press against the warm, still clothed man beside him.  “Yeah?   _Just_ the best gobbie? Think I heard something earlier about the _best sex ever_ ,” Jamie reminds him, biting at thick, solid neck muscle that makes him feel like he can just keep putting pressure.

“Might’ve— nngh, that’s a bit hard,” the man mumbles, shrugging his shoulder to shake Jamie’s teeth loose from his neck.

“Sorry,” Jamie says, licking the deep indents his teeth left behind. He tastes blood and presses an apologetic kiss to the bite before big hands drag him higher and tilt his head back to bare his own neck.

Jamie closes his eyes tight and makes a pained noise when teeth bite down in his neck, though it’s not as hard.  The teeth move on to his shoulder and Jamie suddenly realizes that the other man hasn’t come a second time yet.  He presses his thigh between the other man’s legs, but it’s batted away.

“ ‘m not able to go again that quick,” the older man says.

Jamie hums and wiggles back up to allow himself to be lavished.  If that’s what this bloke is into, might as well let him take what he wants.  Jamie is certainly going to.

The man clears his throat and presses a series of sweet kisses to Jamie’s chest before rumbling, “I think I love you.”

Something sharp spikes in Jamie’s gut.  “Now, don’t take this wrong. I think everything about you is perfect, it’s not you it’s me and all that, but I think you should take some—“ the lips on his shoulder start kissing his chest, leaving a wet trail down his sternum, “take uh… some t-time…” the man starts sucking and scraping his teeth against a nipple and Jamie loses his train of thought.  The man’s tongue swirls around before the broad, flat muscle laps across the sensitive nub.

“I was… saying something,” Jamie says, once the teasing mouth leaves off his nipple for the rest of his torso.

“Think you were about to tell me your name,” the man says between kisses down Jamie’s stomach.  They’re distracting, but in a warm way.

He doesn’t mean to give his real name, but he hisses out, “Jamie…!” at the scrape of teeth against his stomach.  A nervousness settles in his stomach immediately.  It twists up with the warmth of arousal and makes him queasy.  He should leave.  Soon.

“Mmm… Mako,” is the reply as Mako’s lips move lower again.

Jamie bites his lip and stretches with a yawn as the kisses trail down to his hips.  His cock stirs again and he catches Mako’s face with his hand before his lips can reach it, drawing him back up with his hand cupping Mako’s stubbled cheek.  “Mind if I get a bit of a kip before I shove off?” Jamie asks, his unease doubled by how sweet the affection was becoming.  Now that Mako is back above his stomach, he presses lingering kisses against Jamie’s chest.

Mako raises a brow up at him, but shrugs with a, “sure.” One last kiss and then he shifts off of the bed so that Jamie can pull the blanket up and over his legs.

Mako sheds his clothing and nestles in beside him.  He’s warm and the press of softly cushioned muscle is surprisingly comforting.

Jamie waits until Mako’s breaths even out and he lets out a deep, grating snore before he begins to move.  

Jamie slips his shirt and pants back on before he starts pilfering.  He collects the cash from Mako’s wallet and finds a collection of thick, solid gold rings in the bathroom.  He leaves the thin, plain gold band after slipping it around two of his fingers and deciding it would be a little shitty after the night they had.  He remembers how mind blowing the prostate massage was and carefully sets one of the thick rings back on the counter before separating the other three between his pockets so they don’t jangle and wake Mako up.  There’s not a lot, which only intensified Jamie’s discomfort with the feelings he’s starting to have about all this.  This had been a bad idea.  Mako was too sweet; a lovely man, really.

Jamie collects a few more small valuables before looking around and remembering the blanket.  He creeps over and slowly, carefully pulls the super soft blanket from the foot.  Mako doesn’t move.  He stops snoring once, and Jamie realizes with concern that he’s actually not breathing at all until suddenly a sucking, terrible noise roars out of Mako and Jamie hurriedly pulls the blanket the rest of the way off before bundling everything together.  If he lingers any longer he might get caught.

He takes one last look around the room before spotting the keys to Mako’s motorcycle on the low coffee table in front of the shitty couch.  It was probably worth more than Jamie could nick in two years at least.  But that would mean getting involved with a chop shop and the bike was honestly a work of art. 

Jamie sighs and opens the door before slipping through with his bundle.  It’s a hard choice, a soft choice, but Jamie is already out of the room and heading for his shitty car.  He is never going to see Mako again, but at least he has a nice and soft—if a little comey— blanket to remember him by.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one-irradiated-muppet's reward for March~ Thank you for all your support, hon :)
> 
> ([Go read her fic Forge, it's wonderful.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13812996/chapters/31762809))

The door slams behind Jamie, angry Japanese spitting behind the door.  He grins and leans back against it, crooning sweetly at his mark.  “Lovie, you know it’s just a misunderstanding!  I’d never tell that cuntwaffle of a brother where you live—it’s all a ruse to make you miserable, drive a wedge between us.”  Jamie hears a sharp hiss through the door.  Progress, probably.  He hears a clunk from within the door and jiggles the handle to see if it was Genji unlocking the door.

A sword slices through the wood and would have caused serious damage if he didn’t jump back with a squawk.

“ _Leave_ ,” is the last thing Genji says before the sword is drawn back through the door.  Jamie can hear the soft shuffle of his light feet carrying him away from the bolted, damaged door.

He sighs and rolls his eyes before heading for the elevator.  Heavy footsteps fall in behind him halfway down the hall, but Jamie keeps his cool and doesn’t turn around.  Probably just the new bloke who moved in last week. Genji said he was an incredibly fat guy, so it stood to reason.  Jamie would have to do some research and figure out if he was worth hitting up.  Something with self-esteem would probably work well if he was as big as Genji said.

When they reach the elevator, he figures it’s nonchalant to get a look at this guy, but before he can even half-turn, a massive hand grabs the back of his neck and slams him into the back wall of the elevator.

Jamie is dazed for the first floor, then he feels the jolt of the elevator halting as the emergency stop is pulled.  “What the fuck…?” he mutters, trying to figure out what had happened.  Was it actually Genji behind him?  No, he’s too sweet to actually follow up on any threats of physical violence, and that heavy stride—

“Boyfriend know you’re a fucking thief yet?” 

The low, rumbling accusation makes Jamie’s gut throb and his heart rate spike for completely different reasons.  The man holding him against the wall of the elevator was one of the best fucks he’d had in a long, long, long time.  And then he’d taken nearly everything in sight except for a few trinkets.

Mako braces his hand on the wall of the elevator and there’s a lone “F” on his left ring finger.  The one ring Jamie had left.  He laughs softly at the irony of them meeting again, in his next mark’s apartment complex of all places.  The hand on his neck tightens to bruising and he winces and tries to fight the painful grip.

“Mate, c’mon, we can talk this out like adults,” Jamie insists.  

“Could, but you’ll just lie to me,” Mako growls.

A shiver rolls through Jamie and he whines because he has never felt so scared and horny in all his life.  “How can I make it up to you?” Jamie asks, squirming against the wall uncomfortably.  His neck and back ache from the awkward position and the man behind him could likely snap his neck on a whim.

The man’s left hand draws back from the elevator wall and Jamie feels two large fingers dip into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.  The telltale shuffle of cash proceeds it smacking the floor of the elevator, then the hand paws at his other pockets to make sure he doesn’t have anything else.  Mako pulls out his phone and then holds it out for Jamie to use his fingerprint unlock.  He huffs and does so, not sure where this is going.

“Gonna pay me back until I decide you’re done,” Mako tells him firmly.  “Find whatever pawnshop you hocked my rings at and tell them your life depends on getting them back…” The hand tightens around his neck and he growls, “nod if you understand me.”

“Bit hard… with your fingers so tight,” Jamie points out.

“ _Nod_.”

Jamie feels his bones groan and he gives the barest of chin jerks in response.

Mako slides his phone back into his pocket.  “If I call you and you don’t have money for me, you’ll pay me back in other ways,” Mako tells him.  “Understand?”

A hot flood races through Jamie’s body, and he nods quickly, forgetting how much it will hurt and reeling from the ache it leaves in his neck.  “How about now?” he asks eagerly.  “Fancy a gobbie to seal the deal?”

Mako’s hand relaxes on his neck slightly and that’s all the permission Jamie needs to drop to his knees and scuttle around so that he’s facing Mako.  He presses his face to Mako’s clothed cock, hard and thick through the jean material, and breathes in.  He has the damp smell of someone who’s been doing light physical activity.  Probably unpacking still.  Jamie undoes Mako’s pants and eagerly drags them down while Mako braces his hands on the wall behind Jamie.  His breaths are loud in the small space, though they are slow and steady. Jamie can’t wait to make him gasp and groan.  

God. It’s bigger than he remembers.  Jamie’s jaw ached for a week after the first time he blew Mako.  He starts with his hands, jerking Mako the rest of the way up and sliding the foreskin back so that he can taste the musky flavor of him.

Mako’s hand grabs his hair and pushes insistently.

Jamie turns his head to the side and ends up with precome and spit on his cheek.  “Listen, mate.  Gobbie gobbling is an artform and it can't be rushed,” he says.

“Rush it anyway—this is the only elevator in the building,” Mako says firmly.  His hand tightens in Jamie’s hair, pulling at it.

Jamie shrugs and wraps his mouth around Mako, taking in as much as he can before sucking his way off and beginning to bob.  Mako’s hand in his hair controls him, making certain his speed is exactly what Mako wants and that he’s going just a touch deeper than is really comfortable for his jaw and throat.  Jamie groans around Mako and wraps his hands around the base of Mako’s cock to massage it as his mouth is fucked.

He hasn’t felt used in a long time. Really, truly used like a wet sleeve instead of a person.  He feels a tingle in his gut again, that wonderful, squirmy feeling that tells him he’s going to look back on this when he’s jerking off later and it’s what’s going to tip him over the edge.  

“Fuck,” Mako groans softly above him.  Jamie squeezes Mako’s thick base firmly with his fingers and then he’s being dragged off, come and spit dripping down his chin as Mako’s left hand takes over, jerking himself in hard, fitful bursts until he comes on Jamie’s face, seeming to purposefully redirect it from his mouth entirely.

Mako releases Jamie’s hair and takes a deep, rattling breath, before sighing and clearing his throat.  He tucks himself back in and pushes the emergency stop to get moving again.

Jamie drags his shirt off and tries to wipe the stringy come off of his face and hair before they hit the bottom floor.  He ends up sitting in the corner with his hair spiked up at the front and his face relatively clean, his shirt over his shoulder and trying to look as nonchalant as possible as Mako exits the elevator without a look back and five people board the elevator with politely uneven expressions.  It smells like sex and sweat, and Jamie ends up riding all the way up to the top floor, baking in shame.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?!” he asks, apparently before remembering that his boyfriend is down the hall and slapping his hand over his mouth. Mako laughs and Jamie narrows his eyes and lets his hand fall away. “Fuck you it wasn’t as good when you were sober. That was a fucking /fantastic/ job on my part--”
> 
> “Not worth the emotional trauma of having my shit stolen,” Mako sneers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally forgot to post this from June. Muppet really loves this and keeps asking for it, so I keep writing it. (I also really love it and have quite a bit planned for these boys.)
> 
> I'm going to repeat it here even though it's tagged, because it was pointed out to me that it's pretty harsh. This chapter has heavy dubious consent. There is forced fingering in this chapter and no explicit consent given throughout. If that will make you uncomfortable, maybe skip this chapter.

The sounds of activity surround him.  People talk in the apartments around him; above him, a child runs across the living room screaming; cars outside honk and squeal.  Across the hall and one door down, Jamie’s ridiculous laugh cuts through the poorly insulated walls and crawls up the back of his spine.  The tense coil settles between Mako’s shoulder blades.  He cracks his neck and takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly and trying to focus on his own surroundings.  

His couch is comfortable and sturdy.  He has a decently sized tv that gets the most important channels—the cooking and animal channels.  His kitchen is currently filled with boxes of new utensils and pan sets that he _still_ needs to put away.  Mako tries to focus on the tv again, tries to ignore the loud whoop he hears from his neighbors across the hall and the less obtrusive laugh of Jamie’s boyfriend.

Mako guesses they made up.  Bully for the poor sap under that harpy’s spell.

Maybe they’re happy together.  Maybe Jamie doesn’t steal from everyone he fucks, just Mako.

That pisses him off.  

Mako pulls out his cellphone and selects Jamie’s number, but doesn’t dial.  He’s not sure he wants to go down this road.  He tries not to be a shitty person, but the elevator…

He’d felt out of control, but he was so sure what he wanted from the little rat, he took it and left.  He wants to feel even.  Mako dials the number and strains to hear Jamie through the walls and hallway, but he doesn’t hear anything from him until his voice comes across the phone.

“Payment time,” Mako tells him.

“Yeah, sure boss,” Jamie says, sounding chipper.  “Where at?”

“176.”

“Sure, sure.  Be right over,” Jamie says brightly.  He hangs up, and Mako doesn’t hear anything else until a door opens, closes and then footsteps approach his apartment.  He opens the door before Jamie can knock.  

“Come in,” Mako says firmly.

Jamie salutes and walks past Mako.  “So I got one of ‘em,” Jamie says, fishing a gold ring out of his pocket.  “The other two are going to take some time,” Jamie says.

Mako takes the ring from Jamie and, after making sure it’s real and his, he slips the T onto his pinky finger.  “What are you going to give me for an extension?” Mako asks.

Jamie grins cheekily and creeps closer.  “How about another gobbie?” he offers.

“It wasn’t as good when I was sober,” Mako lies.  

Jamie’s expressive face falls into a disappointed scowl.  “ _What_?!” he asks, apparently before remembering that his boyfriend is down the hall and slapping his hand over his mouth.  Mako laughs and Jamie narrows his eyes and lets his hand fall away. “Fuck you it wasn’t as good when you were sober.  That was a fucking _fantastic_ job on my part working your chode as it was being shoved down my throat.”

“Not worth the emotional trauma of having my shit stolen,” Mako sneers.  

Jamie rolls his eyes and scoffs.  “What do you want, then? Take it and get it over with, mate.  I’ve got a jealous boy with a sword waiting for me in 179.”

“Jealous, huh?” Mako asks.

Jamie realizes his mistake immediately and takes one step back before Mako jerks him forward by his shirt and slams his lips against Jamie’s.  He kisses him hard, aiming to leave his lips sore and red.  He scrapes his teeth across Jamie’s bottom lip when he pulls away, then dives in to bite and suck at his neck.

Jamie takes steps back, but Mako follows him until Jamie’s back smacks against the door. Mako opens his mouth wide to leave a giant oblong bite on the side of Jamie’s neck.  Jamie lets out a pained gasp, followed by a moan when Mako follows it up by sucking hard on the skin within the bite, bringing blood to the surface and nibbling to make certain it bruises deep.

Jamie brings his hand up to cover his mouth, but Mako shoves it away and pins it to the wall with one hand while sliding his other hand up Jamie’s shirt and feeling the hard, warm muscles.  It reminds him of drunken laughter and tender kisses.  He wrenches Jamie’s shirt up and drops down to bite his collarbone, suck on his pec then leaves a wet trail down his body.  Mako is soon on his knees, sucking marks into Jamie’s Adonis belt and nipping his hipbone through the thin layer of skin.  Jamie’s jeans ride low on his hips, tempting Mako to go lower, but he’s not going to suck Jamie’s cock.  This is supposed to be a punishment and sending Jamie back covered in marks and walking bow-legged sounds perfect.  

Mako stands back up and presses close to Jamie, making sure he puts enough pressure on the tent blowing out Jamie’s zipper to make his hips arch and his mouth sag open.  “Got a condom on you?” he asks.

Jamie’s hands drop from fondling Mako to pat his pockets.  He fishes out a condom from his wallet and starts to open it when Mako plucks it from him.  He checks the expiration date before sliding it into his lounge pants’ pocket and grabbing Jamie.

Jamie scoffs and reaches for the condom pocket, but Mako shoves him toward the couch and follows him with slow steps.  “Think I don’t get around enough to go through condoms regular?” Jamie asks.

“Dunno. You might have stolen it from someone who hasn’t gotten any in years,” Mako points out.  

Jamie shrugs, conceding Mako’s point as he’s turned around and shoved down over the couch arm.  “Is my punishment smelling your ass print in this couch?” Jamie asks.  “ ‘Cause how do you know I’m not into that?”

Mako snorts and reaches past Jamie to pull a bottle of lube from between the cushions.  “Figures you would be,” he says, grinding against Jamie’s ass through their clothes.

“Ugh.  It’s going to take forever for you to open me up for your monster cock,” Jamie complains.

“Shut up,” Mako growls as he balances the lube on the back of the couch and then reaches around Jamie to unbutton his pants and push them down.  

“If I’m gonna be here for an hour,” Mako rolls his eyes and drags Jamie’s shirt off, “I’m gonna—“ he’s cut off when Mako loops the t-shirt over Jamie’s head and pulls back so that it gags him.  He ties the neck to the tail the best he can and then goes back to working Jamie’s pants down.  “Urr uh hhick.”

“I told you to shut up,” Mako points out, uncapping the lube and squeezing a good amount onto his index finger to begin working Jamie open.  

Jamie brings his hands up to remove the gag, but Mako holds it in place with his free hand as Jamie claws at the material.  Jamie fights with it for half a minute before giving up and going boneless over the arm of the couch in surrender.  It also might have been partially because Mako accidentally brushed his prostate out of habit.

Mako pulls his finger out, lubes back up and then works two in, trying to avoid making this a pleasant experience for Jamie.  Jamie’s still very tight and he clenches around the fingers with a low, gagged curse.  

“Relax,” Mako tells him. “Or don't and it will hurt worse,” he says like he doesn’t care.  He doesn’t.  He shouldn’t.  

… He kind of does.  Mako’s cock stops throbbing as he feels a wash of melancholy.  What is he _doing_?  Gagging a man and forcing him over the arm of his couch like some kind of vicious predator?  He was angry in the elevator, and just now when he marked Jamie up, but this took too much time and preparation.  

He doesn’t know how to turn sex into something painful and wrong and doesn’t really want to the more he thinks about it.  Mako sighs and lets go of the gag.

“Hhhck— wait, what?” Jamie asks as the gag falls away and Mako steps away from him.  “Hey! Where’s my ass railing?!” he snaps.

Mako walks to the kitchen and washes his hands.  “Get out,”  he says.  “Next time, bring both of my rings.”

Jamie does not get out.  He stands in Mako’s living room, his cock so hard it’s curving back up toward his belly and his shirt around his neck like some hipster scarf.  “What the fuck, no! get over here and rail me, you dumb pig!”

Mako narrows his eyes at Jamie and cracks his knuckles just by squeezing his hand into a fist at his side.  “I said get out.  Next time I call you, bring me my rings.”

Jamie starts to walk toward Mako, his face screwed up and ready for an argument when he trips on his pants and goes down.  He twists in the air like a lanky cat to land on his side, saving his cock a nasty brush with gravity.  

Mako snorts and then flat out laughs at the display.  

“Oh yeah? Think that’s funny?” he asks.

Mako pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of the hapless idiot, pants down, everything sprawled out all over the place. “It’s hilarious,” Mako says as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.  “If you don’t want your boyfriend to see it, bring me back my rings,” he repeats.  

Jamie rolls over onto his back and pouts.  “Yer a real dick, mate.  You know how long I’ve been working that bloke over?”

“Not as long as I’ve had those rings,” Mako replies.  

Jamie continues to pout on the floor.  Mako waits for Jamie’s cock to begin to go down, but it stays proud and firm long after Mako’s own has abated. 

“Either get up and leave on your own or I’ll toss you out,” Mako tells him.

Jamie holds his hands up as if he’s trying to shield his cock from Mako’s sight.  “Hey! He’s shy.  Give him some space. Stop staring at him— he likes that.”

Mako shakes his head and steps forward.

Jamie grabs his prick with a yelp and protects it as he rolls away from Mako.  “This’ll go faster,” Jamie says, beginning to jerk off.  

Mako rubs his temples and sighs.  “Are you fucking serious?”

“You’re the one who grew it, mate!” Jamie tells him between bursts of panting jerks.  “Fuck… this would go a lot smoother with some—“

“Just finish,” Mako snarls.

Jamie bites his lip and jerks himself off harder.

Mako suddenly realizes that there’s a huge flaw in getting mad at Jamie.  “If you’re getting off to me being pissed off, stop it,” he growls.

Jamie jerks himself harder and lays back on the floor, his long legs tensing.

“Jesus you’re a fucking animal,” Mako sighs, walking forward and grabbing Jamie by the shirt tied around his neck.

Jamie laughs and his groan is choked off as Mako drags him toward the door and then heaves him out into the hallway and slams the door.

God, he fucking hates that stupid twerp.  Mako sighs and walks back over to the couch to sit and resume his tv time. Alone.

Well, at least he has one of his rings back. 

Mako sits and watches and takes comfort in the familiar weight while still feeling like something’s missing.  The tv isn’t as engaging as it was before.  The couch doesn’t feel as soft.

Mako shifts uncomfortably before giving up and attempting to lie down.  His head bumps something, which turns out to be the discarded bottle of lubricant.  It must have slipped off the cushion while Jamie was being a dramatic bitch.  

Mako hears a loud crash across the hall and one door down. Jamie’s voice raises in a placating tone and Mako smirks.  Serves him right.

He eyes the lube, then shrugs and pushes his lounge pants down past his cock and squeezes some out onto his hand.  Shoving Jamie against the wall, marking him even though he doesn’t belong to Mako—Mako doesn’t even _want_ him, but he’s all over Jamie.  Bruises from his fingers, lips and teeth, kiss-swollen lips and half-lidded eyes begging him to—

Mako comes with a curse, taking deep, cleansing breaths and trying to focus on the peaceful flood of pleasure instead of the asshole who he’d just jerked off to.  He was going to have to regret and introspect later, because right now, Mako feels too good to bother.  He strokes himself slowly, reflecting back on the night they met—getting caught in the alley, Jamie sticking up for them and then the flurry of lips and cock once they got to Mako’s motel room.

He grunts as another swell rushes through his swimming gut and a little more come dribbles out.  “You always had bad taste in partners,” he tells his cock before dragging his lounge pants back up and reaching for the tissues on the coffee table.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is going tits up.
> 
> Genji broke up with him again. He can’t find one of the rings, which means he only has one more visit left before Mako might actually kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muppet wanted more Rebound.
> 
> Thanks to Skadi for the beta.

Everything is going tits up.

Genji broke up with him again.  He can’t find one of the rings, which means he only has one more visit left before Mako might _actually_ kill him.  Jamie can’t close his eyes and squeeze his cock without imagining being bent over Mako’s couch arm and gagged with his own t-shirt.  The thought of him pressing Jamie against the door or a piece of furniture makes his blood race.  The thought of him touching Jamie at all with those big, wonderful hands...

God, he wants to go back and beg Mako to rail him.  It would be worth it.  Giving up the last piece of leverage he has and then accepting his death at the mercy of those massive, rough hands.

He busies his hands with a twice-washed receipt he found in his pocket and impatiently waits for his glass to be refilled.  He tries to ignore the fact that he’s back in the bar where he first saw Mako.  Maybe he’ll wank in the alley they fucked in before he stumbles back to his car.  All his shit— well, he doesn’t have a lot— is packed up in his back seat and trunk and he doesn’t know where he’s going to crash for the night but he knows he wants to go back to Mako’s.  He’s wanted to go back for the last week of sleeping in his car.  Genji hadn’t liked the hickies or the fact that when Jamie came back to the apartment he was still hard.  

Jamie knew he wouldn’t and he goaded Mako anyway.  Tried to get that good, rough fuck he craved since the elevator, but he doesn’t want to give up the last of his leverage for it.  

He finishes off the receipt into a pile of confetti on the bar before he gets another two fingers of whiskey.

He tosses it back and his fingers immediately start twitching with nothing to occupy them.   He taps the bar for another refill and then fishes out the last ring he has.  The embossed L taunts him as he turns it over.  He tries to fit it on any of his fingers, but it’s so big that he can’t get it to stay without loosely spreading his pinky and ring fingers.  

“Boy trouble?” the bartender asks with a sly smile as she leans on the counter.

Jamie tucks the ring back in his pocket after a few tries and shoves his glass toward her.  “ ‘Nother,” he says firmly to hide his slur.

“Think you’re done,” she tells him.  

Jamie scowls and swipes at the empty glass but misses and the bartender grabs it before he can take another swing.  “Give it back.  More booze.”

“Call an Uber,” she says, any mask of sympathy gone from her tone.

Jamie groans and lays his head on the bar.

——

He’s warm and comfortable like only a good couch can be.  Genji must have let him back in last night.  He’s a right sorry mess when he gets drunk, says all kinds of sweet shit he doesn’t have the emotional depth to talk about when he’s sober.  He reflects fondly on his first night with Mako.  The ill-fated confession and how different Mako has been the last few times he’s seen him.

Maybe he’s just looking for a tender piece of ass to open up that heart of stone.  Jamie snickers to himself then feels a wave of nausea rush through him and bolts for the bathroom.  He goes left out of habit and nearly runs into a bloody solid wall.  He grabs the nearest thing and pukes into it.  Tears, snot, a plate of nachos and more liquor than he should be able to reasonably consume fill a size eighteen leather boot.

He dry heaves when he realizes that he’s not at home—well, where he had lived with Genji for nearly a year.  He’s across the hall and a couple of doors down.

He spent the night on Mako’s couch and now he’s curled around his leather boot and _God_ Mako’s going to _destroy_ Jamie and not the fun way that will make him sit funny for week.

Jamie lets the boot fall between his legs, then pulls his shirt up to wipe his face and mouth on the inside—and then he just leaves it up over his head.  Fuck.  Fuck what could he possibly have said last night to convince Mako to let him crash on his couch?  He didn’t feel used or smell like sex or come or anything, so he didn’t pay with his body or dignity— well, he might have paid with his dignity depending on how much he cried and how many feelings his drunk ass let out.

Heavy footsteps approach on the hardwood of the kitchen and then stop.  Jamie assumes it’s because he’s now in view.  “Oh, for Christ— _I left a trash bin by the couch_ ,” Mako growls.

Jamie curls tighter as his stomach and head war over which one feels the shittiest.  “The layout’s flipped,” he grumbles pitifully.

“ _You’re_ flipped if you don’t fucking clean out that boot,” Mako replies.

Jamie flinches when his head pounds on every syllable of Mako’s booming voice.  “Sure, sure, I’ll clean it out, but y’gotta stop yellin’ at me, mate.”

“I’m not your mate, and I’m not yelling,” Mako points out.  

“Can you whisper then? Yer voice is real painful with a hangover...” Jamie begs.

“No,” Mako grunts and it only throbs half as bad.

“Can I have some water?” Jamie asks, nearly whining.  It makes his head scream.

“Yeah,” Mako says.  “In your own apartment.  Or at the cafe down the street.  Get out.”

Jamie whines miserably and pouts up at Mako, his eyes swimming and his mouth tastes like stomach acid fermented with old booze.  “Come on, mate.  I’ll suck your dick for it.”

Mako doesn’t even seem to consider the offer.  It stings.  A lot.  Instead, he snorts and shakes his head.  “Just watched you chuck up into my favorite boot.  I don’t want your mouth anywhere _near_ me.  Now get. Out.”

Jamie scowls and shoves the boot away from him.  Chunky, alcoholic sick spills out and seeps into the carpet.

Mako’s jaw tightens and he grabs Jamie’s arm, but he doesn’t follow up the way Jamie expects or wants.  Instead of ripping into him like he did last time, Mako hauls him to his feet and walks him over to the apartment door.

“Hey, hey!” Jamie yelps before nearly puking again.  He burps instead and gags before beginning to dig his heels into the carpet.  “This is _your_ fault,” he snaps, trying to hit Mako’s bare foot and ankle with his boot.  “ _You’re_ the reason Genji broke up with me!   _You’re_ the reason I’m homeless!”

Mako pauses and Jamie thinks he got through to him before Mako simply opens the door and shoves him out into the hall.

Jamie lies on the hall floor and wipes his mouth with his T-shirt.  All he does is smear old mess across his chin.  He makes a disgusted sound before letting his collar go and pulling up the hem of his shirt to wipe his face with instead.

He closes his eyes and hits the back of his head against the floor.  Fuck.  

He lays there for as long as he can physically stay still.  When his fingers get fidgety, he reaches into his pocket for the L ring out of habit, but there’s nothing there.

“Shit,” Jamie groans and rubs his face.  

“You look disgusting,” Genji says from above.

Jamie chokes back something biting and hopes he can get his puppy dog eyes up despite his headache.  When he pulls his hands away, he sniffs and shrugs.  Averts his eyes, then pouts and looks up at Genji.  Maybe he can salvage this.  

“I’m a mess without ya, love.”

“No, I think you are just a mess,” Genji replies.

Mako’s door opens and Genji turns away from Jamie to flash him a smile.

Jamie watches in disbelief as Mako rests his hand on Genji’s lower back when he enters.  He wiggles his fingers and it makes Jamie realize that there are four thick gold rings on his knuckles.  

It spells LEFT.

Jamie feels a bit lost.  He went from having the key to one last fuck with Mako to having none in a flash.  And now his ex-boyfriend-slash-mark is warming his bed?

He feels something he hasn’t ever felt before.  Jealous.  Played.  A failure.  He thinks he’s going to break into pieces because there’s nothing he can do about the churning discomfort in his gut.  The game is over and he barely got to play.

He lost something that wasn’t his in the first place, but it’s more than giving back a couple grand in gold for a few fucks or losing his multi-million dollar mark he’s been puppy dogging for nearly eight months.

He hasn’t felt heartbreak since high school.  Or, at least, that’s what he thinks this is.  Wanting desperately to fuck a man and then falling apart when he can’t—sounds close enough to him.

Jamie stands when he hears a soft, familiar laugh, followed by the rumble of Mako’s own.  He nearly trips over his own feet getting into the elevator and then hits the down button until his thumb hurts. 


	5. Chapter 5

Mako wants to call Jamie.  He’s not sure if it’s guilt over their last sexual encounter or disgusted concern over how much of a fucking mess he was when he last showed up at Mako’s apartment.  However, he also doesn’t want to deal with the shithead.  He’s not _desperate_ for another person's touch.  He’s always considered himself fairly self sufficient, and he doesn’t get quite drunk enough to get sad and want such ill-advised company.

Maybe he’s not lonely, he’s just bored.  There’s not a lot to do in his apartment.  When Mako’s not at work, he watches tv and thinks about the shit he could do to make it more homey.  Genji visits every few days and they have drinks and shit talk about how awful Jamie is, but… he has a habit of twisting the heavy gold bands around his fingers and they always make him think about Jamie.  He thought getting them back would make him feel whole again, over it all, but it doesn’t.

He was off balance after Jamie robbed him.  Emotionally and physically.  He felt like he was lurching through life just as lost as he was when he left his wife.  Just as uncertain whether he was going to topple over or stay standing.  He used Jamie as his excuse for the absolute mess his life had become.  

Too bad now it’s just him and his mess and the only person he has to blame is himself.  The only person he has to share his misery with is himself.  Well.  There’s Genji.  

Mako snorts and shakes his head as he changes the channel.  No, Genji would try to drag him out of his sad apartment and go party.  He’d done it twice and it was always a nice enough diversion until Mako woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and his lower back and knees killing him.  He’s past the kind of partying that Genji goes for and Genji usually has something going nearly every night of the week.

Maybe he should accept his offer to help Mako set up a dating profile.

The pit of his stomach twists just thinking about it. The last time he opened up to someone, he got his rings stolen and then ended up dealing with the shitty fall out for a month.  

Mako lets out a heavy sigh and nearly dials Genji when someone knocks on his door.  “Speak of the devil,” he says as he stands and walks to the door.  

When he opens it, it’s not the green haired young man he expected, but the blonde troublemaker they had met and bonded over.  

“Aw, you were talking about me?” Jamie asks with a grin.  Mako makes to close the door, but Jamie wedges his foot in to stop it. “Wait!  I still have something of yours!” Jamie yelps.

Mako doesn’t lean against the door to crush his foot, though he considers it.  Apparently he’s a better person than that.  “Go away.  Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

Jamie doesn’t remove his foot and doesn’t say anything.

Mako waits for a moment before opening the door back up.  “What?” he asks.

Jamie smiles nervously and holds out a wadded up bundle that Mako hadn’t noticed before.  It’s his blanket.

“You can keep it,” Mako tells him before moving to shut the door again. 

“Hey!” Jamie jumps halfway through the door to block it this time.  “I… I’m sorry, alright? I did a lot of shitty things and I kind of hoped that I could get one more lay out of returning the blanket but it’s fine if that’s not a thing I washed it and just wanted to give it back!”

Mako reaches for the blanket and yanks it out of Jamie’s arms.  “Now leave.”

Jamie purses his lips and stays where he is.  His hair is a mess as usual and his shirt is so old that the collar is stretched out enough to show his collarbones.  Temptation tickles Mako’s stomach.  “Can I come in?” Jamie asks, breaking Mako out of his lusty contemplation.  Mako pushes the door and it begins to squish Jamie.  “Just for a second!” he says, wriggling around and pushing at the door with his wiry arms, his muscles strain but they don’t even begin to compare to Mako’s brawn. “C’mon, I just want to talk!”

“You came here expecting to fuck me for returning something that _you_ took from _me_ ,” Mako points out.  And he’s _tempted_.  That’s the worst part of it.  This piece of shit isn’t even worth his time, but Mako still wants to touch him.

“I… am a dumb, dumb bloke,” Jamie admits.  “But… I felt like we had something.  At the very least fuckable chemistry.”

“You only date people who have something you want to take,” Mako growls, a reminder for himself more than anything.

“Not true!  I don’t want to date you! Just… fucking sometimes.  If that’s something you’d want.  No strings attached, no weird feeling shit, just… y’know, you forcing your cock down my throat or fucking me until I can’t feel my legs.”

“You’re an idiot,” Mako tells him. “I’m not going to fuck you just because you ruined your own relationship and are feeling shitty about it.”

“I’m not feeling nothing about that!  That was a job, room and board with blowjobs and a massive payday at the end of it—which I lost now thanks to you!”

Mako laughs at that.  “Thanks to me?” He steps closer and glares down at Jamie.  The problem with Jamie being an _idiot_ with a deathwish is that he’s unwilling to be intimidated by a man capable of breaking him in half.

“Y-yeah,” Jamie chokes out.  

Maybe he _is_ afraid.  Mako chuckles and leans in closer, raising his hand to the front of Jamie’s shirt.  

Jamie’s eyes drop closed and he purses his lips out as if expecting a kiss.  

“You ruined your own life when you tried to trick a decent guy into falling for you because he has family money,” Mako tells him.

One of Jamie’s eyes opens up and his pursed lips change into a pout.  “He’s not decent! His dad’s a gangster!”

“You’re a shitheel who doesn’t know when to quit and that’s why your here.”  Mako shoves him from the gap in the door and snaps it shut.  “Quit now,” he tells him.  “Before I get pissed instead of annoyed.”

“Hey! Thought we were having a moment!” Jamie shouts.

“The next time I have a moment with you, one of us will be dying,” Mako warns him.  “Now get the fuck away from my apartment.”

“Mako!” Jamie whines.  “I wanna change!  C’mon, mate, give me a chance! Or at least a sore jaw…”

Mako walks back over to his couch and sits down, setting the wadded up blanket beside him.  The soft texture reminds him of blowing Jamie silly on the motel bed, rubbing off on each other in the alleyway behind the bar, Jamie blowing him until he saw stars very nearly in public.  

He also remembers fucking Jamie’s face in the elevator and shoving him against the door of his apartment and marking him just to be a dick.  What had come after… He remembers how angry he was at Jamie and at himself. That’s what Jamie is coming back for, the violence and anger, not the times that Mako had wanted to connect to another human being.  He wants the brutal, domineering part of Mako that he feels ashamed of.  

Mako pulls out his phone and dials Genji.

“ _Do you want me to come deal with him_?” Genji asks in lieu of a greeting.  

“No.”  Mako sighs and rubs his face with his hand.  “Maybe…” Jamie’s not making a fuss outside his apartment anymore and it makes him realize how quiet and alone he is rather than giving him peace. “You still want to help me set up a dating profile?” he asks.

“Yosh!” Genji chirps and then hangs up.

Mako chuckles and tosses his phone beside him on the couch.  Genji knocks once he tries the handle and finds it locked.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a ninja?” Mako asks as he unlocks the door and lets Genji through.

“I am, but we are friends and I respect your privacy and boundaries,” he says with a bright grin.  Genji is older than Jamie by nearly ten years, but he has a boyish charm to him that makes him easy to interact with.  He probably had no trouble keeping up with Jamie’s spunk and probably even gave him a run for his money.  “You are thinking of him,” Genji says, smacking Mako’s arm accusingly on his way past.  Genji plops on Mako’s couch and picks up Mako’s phone as he shuts and locks the door.

Mako sits and sheepishly shrugs.

“He has that effect on people,” Genji says wryly, not looking up from the phone.

Mako grunts and unlocks the phone when Genji gives up trying to guess the password.  He watches Genji zip through downloading an app and then another.  Then another.

“Can’t we do just one?” he asks.

“If you want a hookup you need one app, if you want something serious you need another and then I’ve heard that this app is good for both men and women but I haven’t used it because that’s not my bag,” Genji rattles off, his thumbs never pausing.  “You’re two and a half meters tall, right?”

“Not even.”

“You are now.  People like easy numbers.  Go take a shower and shave and put on something that fits your arms tightly,” Genji instructs him after taking a quick glance at Mako’s appearance.

“Can’t I just shave and put on a different shirt?” Mako asks, not yet standing up.

Genji stops typing and slowly looks up at Mako before shaking his head.  “You smell sad, my friend.”

Mako snorts and then stands to do as he’s told.

——-

He feels better after a shower, and by the time he’s scraped his jaw smooth and run his hands through his hair a few times, he meets Genji’s standards with a shrug and, “better.”

Then, they go on a trip.

“Why can’t we just do this in my apartment?” Mako asks, though he’s not necessarily dragging his feet as Genji leads him up a flight of stairs he never knew existed and out onto the roof of their building.  

“Roofs are cool and your apartment is sad,” Genji replies as he turns around and holds up his phone.  “Flex.”

Mako does as he’s told.  His shirt sleeves strain around his massive arms and he feels a spike of vanity as Genji snaps pictures of him.  He attempts a smile for a bit, but it feels shitty and hollow.  “Is everything about me sad?” 

“Not everything,” Genji reassures him, beginning to circle like a vulture.  

“Do I need to turn?” Mako asks, dropping his arms and twisting with a raised brow. 

“Just do whatever,” Genji tells him.  “You are tall, muscled, and handsome.  Tons of people will want a piece of you.”

Mako snorts and crosses his arms.

Genji comes closer and takes several pictures of him and then pushes him back toward the door.  “Okay, now act like you’re coming through the door.  Put your hand up on the top thing and duck your head— perfect.”  

Mako feels huge.  He _is_ huge, but he doesn’t usually feel it.  He habitually ducks for doors and usually people are too focused on not pissing themselves to point it out to him.  

“You look awkward,” Genji says, dropping his arm from taking yet another picture.

“I am awkward.”

“Not in the app,” Genji assures him.  “Everyone is awkward which makes you normal.  Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t talk to people,” Mako points out, shutting the door and walking over to the edge of the roof.  There’s a rail that’s four feet tall, it would reach Genji’s mid-chest, but he sets his elbows on it and looks out across the street.

“That’s fine, stick to your usual short messages.  Gives you an air of mystery.”  Genji takes pictures again as he speaks.  Honestly, he looks like he’s having a lot of fun with this.

“How many more do you need?” Mako asks, pushing off of the railing and turning to lean against it.

“Turn your head to the side and run your hand through your hair,” Genji says instead of replying. 

Mako rolls his eyes and does as he’s told.  Genji laughs delightedly and continues to instruct him into more ridiculous poses until the sun begins to set.  Instead of excusing himself for a night of booze and dancing, Genji asks what kind of pizza Mako likes and they go back to his apartment to look through the pictures.

Mako nearly takes up Genji’s whole couch, but Genji’s skinny and doesn’t mind close contact.

Genji uses the tv to flip through the photos with his legs up in Mako’s lap and a thoughtful look on his face.

“Some of these are just dupes or have bad lighting,” Genji explains as he moves through the photos, deleting and occasionally flipping to a previous picture to weigh whether he likes it more than the one after it.

“Do you do this often?” Mako asks.

“Set up friends’ dating accounts? You would be surprised.”

“Picture stuff,” Mako clarifies. 

“Not really.  I've just done a lot of odd jobs trying to figure out what I want to do with my life,” Genji replies, continuing to consider the pictures.

Mako grunts and rests one arm across the back of the couch and the other across Genji’s legs.  “You’re good at it, even with just a phone.” He’s surprised that he likes several of the pictures. 

“Mhm,” Genji hums, looking pleased with himself.  “I’m pretty good at everything I do.”

“Humble.”

“Why be humble when I can just tell the truth?”

Mako chuckles and watches as Genji narrows down the photos further.  “Is this all really necessary?”

“Yeah, if you want to be successful, you have to have the best pictures.  The first impression is everything.”

Mako snorts and relaxes back, getting comfortable. They might be here a while.  “Yeah, sure.”

Seeing Mako start to get bored, Genji begins asking him questions that will help with his profiles. “Favorite animal?”

“Pigs.”

“Ideal date?”

“A photo shoot on the roof and then pizza and stupid questions,” Mako rumbles.

Genji kicks him lightly and Mako grabs his foot to prevent another hit.  “Be serious!”

Mako chuckles and this time puts his arm across Genji’s legs for protection instead of comfort.  “I don’t know… a trip to the country together? I haven’t seen a farm in years and I’d love to see animals that aren’t stray cats or small dogs.  Maybe take a picnic, make a day of it on the bike.”  He shrugs.

Genji sits up quickly and then rolls off the couch.  “We need to take pics of you with your bike,” he says firmly.

“Of course we do,” Mako groans.

“Go get your leather jacket and meet me in the garage,” Genji says, shoving a cold slice of pizza into his mouth and racing from the living room into his bedroom.

Mako rolls his eyes and grabs two slices on his way out.  He flips them top to top and eats them like a sandwich as he sticks his arm into his apartment for his jacket and then heads for the elevator.  By the time he reaches the bottom, he’s finished the pizza and has his jacket pulled on.  It’s a little uncomfortably warm, but the night’s cooldown is just starting to creep into the garage and honestly after Genji’s done taking pictures of his bike, he might go for a ride. 

Mako opens the apps Genji downloaded onto his phone while he waits and looks at the information on them so far.  His height was a few inches off, just like Genji said it would be.  His age is also fudged, but it might just be that Genji doesn’t know he’s 48 and not 45.  He fixes it and moves on to the bio.

_I can fit my hand all the way across your back when we hug, bench twice your bodyweight and make a decent omelette._

_You enjoy cuddling, carrying the conversation and a deep baritone that occasionally has something wry to say._

“How does it look so far?” Genji asks.

“It looks fine,” Mako says before turning the key on the bike and kicking it to life. “I’m not doing this for another hour,” he says firmly.

Genji frowns and drops his phone to his side.  “I don’t need an hour, but fine.”  

They stand there in silence for a moment before Mako jerks his head behind him.  “You want to come?”

“Where are we going?” Genji asks.

Mako shrugs and offers him a small smile.

That’s all it takes for Genji to put both of their phones in his jacket pocket and climb onto the bike behind Mako.

**Author's Note:**

> I dropped some hints; put the torches and pitchforks away.
> 
> (No, really, I did. My beta didn't believe me either.)


End file.
